Can't Catch Me
by wyverna
Summary: Wait to find out, take this as it comes. I'm not giving anything away, and you're not taking. You'll have to read it to see how it goes, and what it's about.
1. Prologue

Prologue 

Zack breathed heavily as he ran gasping to the train station. This was it. His father had gone too far this time.

"_Stop playing that guitar!" yelled Frank Mooneyham._

"_NO!" replied Zack. "This guitar is my life, and I'm not giving it up just because _you_ want me to!"_

_"You don't understand! Just give it up!"_

_"No, _you_ don't understand! Just because you're a failure doesn't mean I have to be!"_

_"I'm not a failure!"_

_"You're a failure at being a Dad!" His father gasped, and slapped him across his cheek. Hard. Zack was shocked, however mad his father had been at him, he'd never hurt him before. His father seemed just as stunned, as he staggered to the door._

_"I'm going out, and we'll talk about this when I get back!"_

_As the door slammed shut behind him, Zack ran upstairs and began to shove his things into a bag. He was going, and not looking back._

_He slipped his guitar on, in it's case, and ran out the door. He was going wherever the trains would take him._

Zack stopped, and looking up he noticed that he was here. He went up to the plastic window, and asked the bored looking assistant for a ticket.

"Where to?" she drawled, winding her chewing gum around her finger. Zack shuddered.

"Uh, wherever I can go for..." he counted his money. "...fifteen dollars and twenty two cents." She took five dollars, and shoved a ticket at him.

"Here you go. A one-way ticket to New York City." He started to walk off. "Good look, run away!" she called after him. He turned.

"How did you know I was running away?"

"When you've worked here as long as I have, you know when kids are running away."

He turned back around, and started to walk off.

Five and a half hours later, he was in The Big Apple, with no idea what to expect.


	2. Summer

_Summer _

Summer stared out the window. Here she was, returning to New York. She'd come here for university, but had graduated early, and returned home. She'd missed...her family. Oh, who was she kidding? She'd missed Zack. And now he was gone, and she was going after him. The train stopped, and she got off.

Summer had also changed a lot over the years. Her dark brown hair was just below shoulder length, and cut so it looked smart, but didn't get in her face. At the minute it was pulled back into a neat ponytail. She was wearing a gray trouser suit, with a lilac silk shirt and matching scarf around her neck. She was carrying her briefcase, as she'd come straight from work, where she'd been discussing the band's new album.

She looked around at the city. There was only one logical way to do this. She flipped open her cell-phone.

"Hello Zack. I'm in New York, and I'll meet you at-" she looked at the name of the nearest wine-bar. "-_The Blue Moon_ in half an hour, ok? No, no questions until we talk. Goodbye." She hung up and slid the phone back into her pocket. She went into the wine-bar and ordered a white wine. When it came she sipped it, waiting for Zack.

Half an hour later Zack walked in. With his floppy brown hair, and big soulful eyes, he turned a few heads. And with the way he was dressed, and the guitar case on his back, he could've been a rock-star. _He will be soon, if this works out_, Summer thought to herself.

He looked around until he spotted her, then came over and slumped in the chair opposite her. Summer spoke first.

"Zack. Why did you run away?" He sighed, but explained. He then looked her in the eye, waiting for that patronizing look he knew so well, but it never came.

"Oh my goodness, Zack, he _hit_ you?" He searched her for sarcasm, but it appeared she was sincere.

"Well. Not _hit_ exactly, more, slapped. But it wasn't just that! It was _everything_." He wondered why he was so anxious to explain himself to her, but passed it aside.

"You're coming back, though, aren't you?"

"I dunno." he mumbled.

"_But Zack, you've got to!_" she said, and then blushed, realizing she had practically yelled it. He looked up, curiously.

"Why do you care?"

"Well, um, it's not just me! It's the band! We're bringing an album out, and then if all goes well we'll probably go on tour. But we can't without you, Zack, we need you. You're not going to desert your friends, are you?"

"You can do it without me. It's not me you need, it's my guitar skill. Give me one good reason why I should come back, and I will. But I'm going now, it's late. Do you have somewhere to sleep tonight?"

"Yes," she said quietly, and he realized he'd hurt her. But it was too late now.

"Good. Meet me tomorrow on 42nd Street, then."

"_Okay._" This time it was little more than a whisper. He walked out, forcing himself not to look back. When he did, he saw a single tear roll down her cheek, and fall into her white wine.

The next morning she heard him before she saw him. So this was how he made a living, by busking on the streets of New York. She went over, and sat down beside him. He was surprised she didn't mind getting her suit dirty, it was pale green today, with a white shirt and scarf. Her hair and makeup was as immaculate as usual.

"Hey." He said.

"Hi." Not being able to think of anything to say, he began to play. As the first few notes rang out, she began to sing.

"_Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wreck like me-e-e-e. I once was lost, but now I'm found, 'twas Grace that saved me."_ Her voice was no longer the high-pitched shriek it had been when they were 10, but it was a beautiful soprano. People looked round, and smiled, and put some money in his case.

"Since when can you sing?"

"Since I got so embarrassed when I was 10 that I took singing lessons."

"They worked well, you sing like an angel." He looked down, realizing what had just slipped out. She couldn't believe he'd said that, could he like her too? She remembered why she was here.

"I got some reasons."

"Let's hear them."

"Number One: for the band." He opened his mouth, ready to interrupt, but she cut him off. "Yes, I realize you don't think we need you, but we do. We're not going to replace you, so if you don't come back the band is going to fall apart.

Number Two: for your father. He's falling apart, keeps muttering that it was all his fault. Yes, I know it was, but he's sorry, and Zack, he regrets it so much. If you'd even phone him it would mean so much to him.

Number Three: for me."

"**_What!?_**"

"I...I really like you Zack. That's why I came back from Uni, and...I don't want to lose you."

"Do you mean it, Summer?" She nodded firmly.

"Yes I do." He reached over and hugged her strongly, and at first she looked a little taken aback, but then she smiled, and hugged him back.

"I love you, Summer."

"I love you too, Zack." He stood up, and carefully scooped the money out of his case and put the guitar in. He slung on his back, and taking her hand helped her up.

"Let's go home."

_Zack made friends with his father, but things were never the same. They still loved each other, though. The band made it big time, and Zack and Summer are now married. They live together and are slightly well off, having given most of their money to charity._


	3. Lawrence

_Lawrence_

Lawrence looked down at his hands, neatly folded in his lap. He was coming to New York on his own, and he doubted the rest of the band would miss him. Everyone always seemed to forget about him, just because he was quiet. Dewey had said that when he was in a band all this would change, but he'd been in a band for nearly nine years now, and nothing had changed, apart from the way he looked.

He was taller, and his hair was darker. He had contact lenses instead of glasses, and he wore gray pants and a white shirt. It was what he usually wore, except sometimes he'd have a different colored shirt. He sighed. It was no wonder no one talked to him, as he was boring, but it would have been nice if they'd tried to find that out themselves instead of just ignoring him.

He'd just got the contacts before he'd gone to the train station, and they were irritating him a bit, as he wasn't used to them. He didn't know what he was doing here, Zack probably wouldn't even know who he was, never mind talking to him. He hadn't brought a change of clothes, as he didn't think he'd be here over a day. Now, however, he was regretting it.

The train stopped and he slowly got off, still lost in his thoughts. He bumped into someone.

"Sorry." He mumbled, and then looked up. It was a beautiful Chinese girl, but as he'd thought she didn't even look at him, just walked off. He sighed, and headed into the city with no idea how he was going to find Zack. He only had ten dollars left, and he needed to eat. He checked his watch – it was nearly ten p.m. The train journey had taken longer than he thought.

He went into the nearest café called _The Green Tea_, or something weird. He sat down and ordered a black coffee and a ham sandwich. When his order came the coffee had milk. He started to say something, but the waitress moved off without even looking at him. He sighed and began to sip his coffee. A girl came and sat next to him. He glanced up in surprise.

"Hi. My name's Jayne, and I couldn't help noticing you. What's your name?"

"L-L-L-Lawrence." He stammered, and she laughed.

"Look, Lawrence, I don't have a crush on you, but you look like you're here to do one thing, and then go. Now, seeing the way you handled that waitress, or should I say, the way that waitress handled you I think you need a bit more confidence, am I right?" He nodded dumbly, unable to speak.

"Look, it's late, and I have a spare room. Do you want to stay over?"

"Uh, sure, I guess. If it's okay with you." She laughed again.

"If it wasn't I wouldn't have offered. Now come on!"

The next day she took him out shopping. He wondered why she was doing this, but she just laughed. He suspected she was a little crazy, but he couldn't say anything or she'd leave him, and he had no idea where he was, except in New York.

"Now, Lawrence, what kind of style do you want to be? Like, name an idol."

"Ray Manzarek." She raised her eyebrows.

"Really? You're into rock?" He nodded.

"What other bands do you like?"

"AC/DC, The Who, Led Zeppelin..."

"I see..."

After an expensive (he guessed) day, she told him that lately on 42nd Street there had been a new busker, playing guitar, and that she thought it might be his friend Zack.

"Do you know how to get there?"

"No."

"You'd better ask someone, then. See you, Lawrence."

"Goodbye Jayne." He walked off, glad to be away from her. Sure, she was nice and all, but she'd just done all that for a complete stranger. He headed towards 41st Street, then asked someone.

"Excuse me sir, where is 42nd Street?" The guy just gave him a nasty look then walked off. Lawrence was about to let him go when...no! He would not let anyone else walk all over him. He ran after the man.

"I asked you a question! Now I would like an answer! Where is 42nd Street?" This time the man looked at him with a bit more respect, before giving him directions. Lawrence walked off, dazed. What had just happened? This wasn't him! But...was it? He did feel happier, and better. He could do this! Before long he heard strains of music, and followed them to find Zack sitting there.

"Hey, Zack." Zack looked up in surprise. "It's me, Zack. Lawrence." Zack slowly took in Lawrence's gray but baggy pants, his Doors shirt and his contact lenses.

"Whoa, it _is_ you! You look totally different, but still...kinda the same." Lawrence smiled.

"Are you coming home, Zack?"

Lawrence sat and listened as Zack told him what had happened.

"So you ran away?"

"Yes! It was all I could do."

"And I thought I used to be dumb."

"What!?"

"Zack, you should have stuck it to the Man." Zack smiled, remembering that time after Battle of the Bands. "I'm not kidding, Zack. You should have said no, you wouldn't talk about it later, you would talk about it now! You should have explained your point of view, and then listened to his." Zack listened in disbelief. Was it really Lawrence saying this? And then he realized; Lawrence hadn't tried to be someone he wasn't, but this _was_ who he is!

"Okay." said Zack. "I'll do it."

_Zack went back and lived at home for a while, but his father wouldn't listen, and Zack ended up moving out._


	4. Freddy

_Freddy._

Freddy stared out the window. Going back to New York. Man, he'd been there so many times himself, as a homeless runaway. Now here he was, running after Zack. This made a change; usually it was _him_ running away. Something big must have happened. Something...slightly scary, even...

He was jolted out of his thoughts, as the train screeched to a halt. He stepped off, and looked around. Freddy had changed a lot. He was older, and taller. His voice was a bit deeper, too, which was good. Zack had always teased him about sounding like Mickey Mouse. His hair was blonder, and spikier, his eyes were bigger and browner. He was wearing an old, faded Metallica shirt, and some ripped jeans.

He stared at all the sky-scrapers. Somewhere in this bustling, hurrying city was Zack. He stopped the nearest guy.

"Hey, dude, where's the coolest joint around here?" Too late he realized he was asking a middle-aged businessman. The guy looked at him strangely, then hurried off. No matter, he'd pay a call on Spider. That way, he'd have somewhere to sleep for the night, and if anyone knew where Zack was, Spider would.

A few minutes later he stumbled upon some kid begging.

"Hey, mister, my brother's lost. I need some money to find him, and..." He knelt down.

"Listen, kid, I recognize that line. You know Spider, don't you?" The kid nodded.

"Of course I know Spider! Every kid on the streets knows Spider, and Spider knows everyone. Everyone in the whole of New York."

"Is that so? Where's Spider now, then?"

"At the den. Want me to take you there?" Freddy checked his watch. It was nearly 9 p.m. Zack had been in the city for a day and three hours. Plenty of time for Spider to find out everything.

"Yes. But hurry up!"

A few hours later they were in the center of New York. They went into an old disused shopping mall. When they were inside, they walked up a broken elevator. The kid stopped in front of an old door.

"Here. But I'm not coming in!"

"Sure, sure, whatever." said Freddy, his mind on the symbol on the door in front of him. It was like, a segmented spider, like a diagram almost, but not quite...it'd been years since he'd seen that symbol. He looked down to say something to the youngster, but he'd already hurried off.

Freddy took a deep breath, pushed open the door and walked in. a teenager turned to face him, about 17, a few years younger than he was. But, and this was the thing that surprised most people, Spider was a girl. Her hard face broke into a smile, and she ran over to hug him.

"Yo, Spaz, how're you doing?!"

"Pretty good, Spid, and you?"

"I'm good." she said, nodding. "So, what makes you come here? I haven't seen you for what, five years? Four?"

"Well, I'm 19 now, and that's make it...four years, yeah. But life's good now I moved out, as opposed to ran out. I'm here because of a friend."

"In NY?"

"Yeah, so, are you aware of any new arrivals?"

"'Am I aware'? Man, Spaz, I run this city! Come over here." She went over to her laptop, and opened up a file. "Ok, let me see...boy or girl?"

"Boy."

"How long's he been here?"

"About...a day and three hours."

"Hmm...ah, we have a couple. But I think I know who you're looking for. Dark hair, dark eyes, looks a bit down, goes by the name of...'Zack'?"

"Yeah, that's him." He said, surprised. "How'd you know?"

"He has a guitar." She shrugged. "Go figure. And you know what the really surprising thing is?"

"What?"

"He's still got it. Not stolen, or nothing."

"But...what...how..."

"Look, come with me, and you can ask him, ok? In fact, today is not a walking day. He'll come to us." She picked up a cell phone. "Mouse? Bring Attack."

"Attack?"

"Yeah, something 'bout Zack Attack."

A few minutes later the door creaked open, and Zack came into the room.

"Ok, now you two happy campers are reunited, go!"

"What?"

"Look, you heard me! Go! And Spaz? Make sure Attack here goes home. I don't like having him here, he's too...look, I have to make sure he don't get hurt. And I'm not that kinda person. So go, both of you!"

They left the mall, neither of them speaking till they got outside. Then, Freddy was the first to break the silence. He sat on the ground, and Zack flopped down beside him.

"Zack."

"Freddy. Hey, is there anything going on between you and that Spider kid?"

"No! Look, I came here on the streets about four or five years ago, and she looked after me. We're like...brother and sister, I guess. Hey! Don't change the subject!"

"I'm not!"

"So?"

"What?"

"So, what are you doing here? I'm not used to being the looker, Zack, usually I'm the one being looked for."

Zack explained what'd happened.

"So, what, you just ran away?"

"Yeah."

"That's so stupid, Zack! You're 19! You could have moved out, or talked about it, or hit him back if you had to! Running away makes no difference, and believe me I know."

"I don't care. This is it, I'm doing well. I'm making $30 a day, playing at a coffee bar, and I've got my own flat, which I'm renting."

"But, Zack! You could be doing so much more! I mean, look at me. I've run out so many times, and I came back. And no offence, dude, but I was making over $100 a day, and I _owned_ an apartment. But still, I came back!"

"Why?"

"Because...I don't know. It seemed right. I mean, there I was doing good, but I was on my own. Whereas at home, when I came back we talked. I wasn't mad at my family anymore. But hey, if you wanna stay here, you do that! I won't leave you, and you'll get by better with me, I know how to survive here. But Zack, I thought you weren't going to be a failure."

"_I'm not!_"

"But you're living in a bedsit making thirty dollars a day, when you could be touring with the band, making thirty _hundred thousand _dollars a day!"

"Fine! I'll come back, but I'm not speaking to _him!_"

"Who, Frank? Your _dad_?"

"Yes! I'm never speaking to him again!"

_Zack came home, but never did speak to his father again. He regretted it when Frank died, and now wishes none of it had ever happened. He lives on his own in a mansion, but does not enjoy it._


End file.
